


Fall, Falling, Fell

by MxHumanoid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Cheesy, Christmas Eve, Falling In Love, Gay, Late at Night, Love at First Sight, M/M, Rent References, Self-Indulgent, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:09:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MxHumanoid/pseuds/MxHumanoid
Summary: fall, v.move downward, typically rapidly and freely without control, from a higher to a lower level-Addresses mature content.





	

Snow fell from the sky like 'unsatisfactory' children from the unreachable standards of their bitter parents. The descent began a slow trickle then sloshed into a heavy onslaught. It fell like tears from the eyes of teenagers who pushed one button too many and ended up flat on their underaged asses with nothing but the clothes on their back and a reputation they supposedly "tainted."

It was an icy evening and the snow did nothing but fall, accumulating in some places, evaporating and leaving no traces of ever existing in others.

Slouched under a dying street light, Sirius imagined himself melting away like one of the delicate snowflakes on the ground; he imagined himself simply ceasing to appear, falling away.

As the holiday season slunk around the corner, patiently waiting to sink its claws of consumerism into the townsfolks' wages, Sirius felt bitterness sink and settle into the painstakingly empty pit of his stomach. As he stood and shuffled down the bare streets of cobble, he pinched a fag between his pale lips, chapped and faded from the piercing cold.

Off in the distance, presumably up the hill at the church, he could hear Christmas bells ringing. They were nauseating to listen to.

With his head hung low and his shoulders heaving forward, as if making himself smaller would preserve warmth, Sirius ambled mindlessly.

The night fell, silent and somber, as the young man walked with no end in sight.

In the quiet chill of the night, he came to a fork in the streets and hesitated briefly, taking a long drag on his cigarette and exhaling it into the gently breezing wind. The peals of smoke billowed, drifted off to the left, and fell away. It was like they were being drawn towards something, chasing an entity through the world that held its breath, trying to grab it before their inevitable termination came.

With a cough, Sirius allowed himself to fall into the hands of whatever manifestation of fate or destiny may exist. He shuffled off after the wisps of smoke.

Light poured into the path of his downcast gaze and he slowed to a stand still and peeked across the street as a door flew open. Cheers and gales of laughter exuding the holiday spirit could be heard from inside as a ratty woman was pushed out and down the porch steps.

The innkeeper's wife stood in the doorway, wielding a broom like a baton and swatting at the lady.

"Somewhere else!" she wailed, shooing her off with wild gestures, "Not 'ere, ya bum! I don't take no freeloaders, ya 'ear! Don't need your service either!" Turning her nose up and flinging a knapsack down to the girl's feet, she returned indoors and slammed the door shut.

"Screw you, lady!" the girl hollered. Grumbling under her breath, she snatched up her bag and tossed it over her shoulder before hacking a plop of spit at the door and trudging off, paying no heed to the ragged man intently watching her.

Sirius' gaze fell to his feet. Grunting, he tucked his cancer stick in the crook of his lips and shoved his stiff fists into the torn depths of his pockets.

To this relief, the Christmas bells had stopped ringing.

If not for the dead silence of the night, he would have never heard the small sniffle that, for once, gave him a reason to try, a reason to care.

His steps were unsure and light as he stalked down a few more feet to the entrance of an alley, wedged between a tea shop and a bookstore, between warmth and adventure. In an unfortunate situation but a befitting location, Sirius found a man, splayed out, gasping, and trembling.

Based on reasoning rooted in what he reckoned was common sense, he thought it best to not immediately approach. Instead, he took his fag between two fingers and extracted it from his mouth, clearing his smoky throat,

"You okay, honey?"

The curly haired man startled, having been too consumed in his ache to notice Sirius' arrival. With much agonized difficulty, he rolled over to make eye contact with the man at the very least.

An almost familiar feeling fell over the duo as their gazes met and, in that moment, it would be safe to assume that Sirius Black _knew_.

After a beat of reticence, the man on the ground replied, "I'm… afraid so."

Sirius flinched as the weight of those simple words lingered in his mind. Deeming it safe, he squashed out and tossed his cigarette and stepped up to the man, dropping into a squat beside him.

Cuts and patches of discolored skin decorated his rough face like bulbs and ornaments on a glistening, store-bought Christmas tree. The shimmering irises of his eyes were bordered in by bloodshot red and the pupils were blown wide. Skin swelled around the bruises that bloomed on the peaks of his cheeks and line of his jaw. The ruddy contusions were a dark plum color that reminded Sirius of when you tried to mix your own violet with red and blue paint but poured too much of one or the other and only ended up with a murky shade of bluish red or reddish blue.

Sirius knew the area as well as the map of scratches across the back of his hand which meant he more likely than not knew who did this and why. He pressed deft fingers to the man's bruised cheek and brushed the mop of curls away from his clammy forehead with his available hand. The question fell from his lips before he could even comprehend forming it,

"They get any money?"

The man laughed and propped his torso up on his elbows as well as he could manage. His words were laced with bittersweet undertones as he spoke, "No. Had none to get. But they purloined my coat."

Sirius coughed into his fist, glancing off to the side. He sighed, pensively staring at a crack in the wall as he deliberated what to say.

"Well," he began, kicking his foot out to drag a strip of cloth into reaching distance. Clutching it up in his hands, he slapped it twice against his thigh to remove the dirt and dust that had accumulated on its surface. He retrieved his small flask, a meager weight in his pocket, and doused its contents onto the cloth in his grasp. Keeping his head down but lifting his gaze, just a fraction, he presented the fabric to the man before him. "You missed a sleeve."

The man grinned and accepted the portion of what was once a piece of apparel with a mumbled,"Thanks."

As the man dabbed at the scratches on his face, Sirius offered a barely noticeable smirk.

"Hell, it's Christmas Eve," he stated, tucking his hands back away. "I'm, uh… I'm Sirius."

"Serious?"

"Indeed."

The man exhaled and made a point of maintaining direct eye contact with his newly acquired acquaintance as he took a shot in the dark and whispered, "A star of the first degree."

The stinging chill fell from Sirius' face as a blush colored his splotchy cheeks. The man continued,

"Friends call me Lupin- Remus Lupin." A vague head gesture was made towards the minimalist tattoo etched into the skin stretched across Sirius' neck, just below his ear. He instinctively scratched at it. Remus smiled, "Nice tree."

The intent way he peered up at Sirius left the latter with a lingering impression that he was being dissected, that his entire existence was being visually deduced and pieced together. Sirius couldn't seem to decipher how such a realization made him feel but he quickly concluded that it wasn't a completely unwelcome feeling, as peculiar as it was. It was undeniable, Remus was _gorgeous_ in a vast, infinite, and uncontainable kind of manner that snatched the breath from Sirius' failing lungs. His presence was ethereal and overwhelmed Sirius in the loveliest way he imagined possible. It made his heart rate speed up, the same way it began to race as he found himself endlessly and suddenly falling in a dream. Remus was so wonderfully beautiful, it nearly _hurt_ and Sirius _loved_ it.

And Remus? He quite possibly had fallen in love upon first interaction. It was nearly instantaneous; one moment he was bleeding out in the cold, awaiting eventual death and the next, he was swept up in a whirling tunnel of infatuation. Sirius was all inquisitive eyes and sharp cheekbones and refined beauty. He was shimmering and glowing like an entire family of clustered celestial bodies; he was galactic, stellar, and exquisitely _marvelous._ Remus found himself staring, unable to detach his gaze from the curvatures and lines of the physical embodiment of a star that sat just outside the grasp of his fingertips. He couldn't bring himself to look away, he was entranced. Self-control was far from the picture but Remus didn't really think he minded.

A rush of affection and a desire to touch, to _feel,_ hit them simultaneously.

"Let's get a Band-Aid for your knee," Sirius offered, desperate to spend more time with the man. Eagerness fueled his movements as he tucked his hands under Remus' arms and heaved him up from the ground. Sirius stumbled once he lifted the man up to his full verticality. With a height difference of six or seven inches, Remus had no choice but to duck his head in order to look the shorter in the eye for just a while longer. It put a tight strain on his already sore neck but he'd be willing to do anything to compensate for the opportunity to look this man in the eye for the rest of his life. Sirius bit his lip and shifted under the pointed gaze that seemed to be trickling right through him.

Remus pointed up the hill, "I live just up there. I'll change."

"What for?"

"There's a life support meeting at nine-thirty," informed the injured man, holding a trembling hand to his clenched gut. Sirius' eyes trained off in the distance where Remus had pointed as he considered the options laid out, rather neatly, before him. As lovely as this man was, the two had only met a few moments ago. Sensibility told him going to his house wasn't the best idea, given the general circumstances. But for this man, this _glorious_ man, Sirius would tell sensibility to suck it, screw off, and bite his- "Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"I should tell you that this body provides a comfortable home for the Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome."

Sirius nearly laughed at the irony. "As does mine," he sated, wrapping an arm around the man's waist and casting his body slightly askew so that the brunt of the weight could be borne on him. They slowly make their way out of the small bubble they had formed around themselves with their mutual spontaneity. "We'll get along fine."

"Let's get you a coat, yeah? Have a bite. Make a night."

Sirius immediately denied the extremely appealing proffer, fervently shaking his head, "Oh, no, I couldn't ask you to waste your money on me." He remembered only too well how livid his mother would grow when he inquired whether or not he could purchase something, no matter how meager it was. What usually followed his asking for things that varied from trinkets to necessities, was not an occurrence he ever wished to relive. He'd hate for his health to fall any further from him as it had thus far.

"Oh that's not a problem," assured Remus. "I'm flushed. Inheritance and whatnot. Really, money is no matter. Even if it was, my offer would still stand." Sirius made a small, curious noise to ask 'why?' "Well," Remus pulled to a stop and nudged Sirius to face him straight on. Grinning, he placed his hand to the rosy-tinted cheek of the man standing in the barren world alongside him, "you're cute when you blush."

And what else could Sirius do but blush and allow himself to fall into the emotional abyss this man lead him to?

Remus made no move to catch the dazzling novelty that fidgeted flush against his side. Instead, he took his hand, made like the flakes of fluttering snow, and fell with him.

**Author's Note:**

> This was kind of accidental. It was initially a Drarry fic but, well, this works just fine, yeah?


End file.
